Page 15 of Crashing Together

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I’m confused. “Your shop? But I thought—”

“I’m sinking. The business. Fuck. I can’t even get the words out.”

“Oh, Cole, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“And look like a loser in front of this amazing chick I met tonight?”

“No, you’re far from a loser. Running a business is hard, I’m sure.” I can only imagine. “Maybe I can help in some way?” I have no idea how, but I can offer. Then an idea hits me. It’s crazy, but maybe it’ll work? Before he has a chance to answer, I ask him, “How about in exchange for me helping in the shop in some way, maybe administrative stuff or marketing stuff, whatever you need, I can sell some of my paintings to your customers in the store?”

He doesn’t say anything, only chews his bottom lip. Fuck, stupid idea. But I don’t know. Help each other out? How could it hurt?

“You want to help in my shop?” Cole rubs his jaw, and his eyebrows knit together. “I mean, I guess—”

I hold my hand up. “Listen, it was just an idea. A whim. We both could use help, so the idea hit me. But think about it. You never know.”

Alcohol really can spur on some good ideas. My head is buzzing with them.

Cole drains the last of his beer. “I definitely need the help. Even getting my name out there would give me a boost in sales.”

A loud thump sounds from the front door, and Cole jumps up. “Rocky. I’ll be back.” He heads out of the kitchen, and a few seconds later, his cute dog is in my lap, wanting all my attention.

“Rocky.” Cole whistles, and he jumps down, accepting the bone and jogging off down the hall. “Good boy.”

He’s back by my side, his eyes roaming over me like I’m his dessert. “How about a movie? Relax for a bit? Or I can take you home?”

As soon as he says a movie and relax, exhaustion hits me, the night finally catching up to me. I should go home, but his delicious body is tempting and so much better than my cold pillow in my childhood bedroom.

“A movie sounds perfect.”

He takes me down the hall, passing a living room on the right and a bathroom on the left before we get to his bedroom at the very end. It’s large, and one side is set up like a surf shop with surfboards and various surfing novelties lining the wall. A huge bed takes up most of the other side with a nightstand and a dresser off to the side.

It’s decorated with a mix of ocean and surfing, his entire style coming through. It’s like stepping inside him, into his world, and everything he represents.

We settle on his bed, and he flips on his TV, the Netflix logo floating across the screen before it begins to stream the movie. 50 First Dates comes on, and I laugh. Of course. Of course, he chooses my favorite movie ever.

“What?” Cole brushes a finger down the side of my face.

“I love this movie.”

He pulls me to him, and my body quivers. “Me too,” he whispers.

The movie continues to play, every second feeling like an eternity as our bodies seem to melt closer and closer together.

I feel the softness of his lips brush against my ear, and I turn my head toward him, our mouth inches from each other.

So close … so close …

Cole makes the first move and crashes our mouths together like the waves we watched earlier.

It’s as if I’m dreaming and never want to wake up. He tastes of beer and salt, and something else, something fucking amazing I never want to stop tasting.

His tongue traces the edge and pushes its way inside. I meet him with my own, lick for lick, swipe for swipe, the kiss only deepening. Cole grips me tighter, his hands digging into my hair and holding my head in place.

My senses explode, the taste, the smell, the touch. All of it. His cologne is lighter now, the scent mixed with ocean and sand. Small moans escape both our mouths and fuel us on.

I lose myself in it, the pull between us strong and fierce. I couldn't stop if I wanted to. Our hands roam every inch of each other.

When he breaks away, we both heave for air, our chests rising and falling hard and fast. I lick my lips, his taste still there.


Tags: Lyssa Cole Erotic